The familiar bus stop appeared ahead. Luo Ming pressed the stop bell, its long chime tearing through the silent night with a piercing, harsh ring.
The bus pulled to a steady halt. The moment Luo Ming stepped off, waves of chill swarmed over her, as if her very blood vessels were about to freeze solid.
She walked quietly into this dilapidated residential area. The dim streetlights were a drop in the ocean against the pervasive darkness. She used her phone as a flashlight, careful not to step on the filth from the trash heaps spilling onto the road.
There were several large plastic bins nearby intended for the residents’ waste. Usually, sanitation workers cleared them on a schedule, but for some reason, no one had come last week. The trash had quickly piled up and overflowed, emitting a thick, stifling stench.
Someone had discarded what smelled like a “biochemical weapon”; a sticky, putrid liquid leaked from the broken bottom of a bin, spreading across the pavement—a source of much resentment over the past few days.
Luo Ming stepped over it cautiously. Rounding a corner, she saw the peeling walls of the old black building. Tangled wires dangled in mid-air, and the surroundings were terrifyingly still.
She expertly located her building. The lightless entrance gaped like the maw of a beast. She walked in calmly, climbing the steps in the cramped stairwell. The unpaved cement floor was patterned with cracks, and a half-dead light hung above, so dim it looked ready to flicker out at any moment.
Luo Ming stopped on the third floor. The yellow “Room 302” sign was nailed to a black wooden door. The iron lock was corroded, showing patches of reddish-brown rust. A few notice slips were tucked into the door crack; Luo Ming took them, glanced at them, shoved them into her pocket, and pulled out her keys.
The first thing she saw upon opening the door was the narrow living room. An old wooden window with peeling red paint faced the door; usually, thin moonlight would filter in to provide a bit of light.
But tonight, there was no moon.
Luo Ming switched on the light, tossed her backpack onto the sofa, and began eating dinner at an old wooden table with scraps of paper wedged under one leg to keep it level.
There was no sign of a second person in the house. That woman hadn’t returned yet, as usual. The sound of the second lock clicking wouldn’t be heard until at least after eleven o’clock.
A green fifty-yuan note was still pinned under a glass on the table. That was Luo Ming’s allowance for breakfast and dinner; once taken, a new one would appear the next day. This was likely the only maternal duty that woman still fulfilled.
But Luo Ming hadn’t touched it in a long time. The green note just lay there. They lived as strangers under the same roof, never questioning one another. Even the simplest communication had been severed long ago. Only the various noises outside her bedroom door after 11:00 PM served as a reminder to Luo Ming that she wasn’t living here alone.
The food had turned completely cold and the flavor had plummeted. Luo Ming felt full after eating only half; she put the rest in the fridge to serve as tomorrow’s breakfast.
She pulled the slips from her pocket and checked them again: utility bills for water and electricity. Fortunately, the arrears weren’t large; her part-time wages were enough to cover them. She took out her phone, tapping and swiping on the glowing screen until her account balance dropped by a small portion.
The phone was a second-hand piece of junk worth less than two hundred yuan. It couldn’t handle high-performance tasks and served only as a tool for communication and payments. Like Gu Yu, she had no chance to enjoy modern online entertainment, but she was grateful for the convenience that saved her from trekking to the power bureau’s business hall in the middle of the night.
After paying, Luo Ming dragged her tired body into her room to scavenge for a change of clothes from a small chest of drawers. The drawers were neatly packed: school uniforms and undershirts on top; various colored underwear folded with precision in the middle; and socks rolled into balls, tucked side-by-side at the bottom. Her heavy autumn and winter coats, which wouldn’t fit, were kept in a nearby basket.
She picked out a set of innerwear; she would have to wear her school uniform over it tomorrow.
In the bathroom, the window was half-open, letting the cold wind swirl inside. She shut it tight and used a plastic bucket to catch the cold water, testing the temperature with her pale hand until the skin turned red from the chill.
Once the bucket was full and the water finally warmed up, Luo Ming undressed and stood under the showerhead. The warm stream cascaded down, soaking her jet-black, supple hair. Her wet bangs clung to her forehead as white steam rose, creating a hazy, ethereal illusion.
The water traced the lines of her slender neck, falling onto her delicate collarbones before gliding over her fair skin—past her chest, her abdomen, and finally down her long legs to the floor.
After finishing her bath, before drying off, Luo Ming stood naked before the bathroom mirror. It reflected an identical version of herself.
Droplets still fell from the strands of hair stuck to the side of her face. Her youthful curves were already graceful; in a few years, she would be exactly the kind of girl boys found most attractive. Luo Ming wondered if he would like it. The boy she liked had probably never looked at her with such thoughts in mind.
But if the boy ever wanted it, she would offer up everything she had. In return… she would… take everything of his.
The person in the mirror suddenly smiled at her, as if seeing through her hidden malice. Luo Ming touched the corners of her curved lips; the expression was dark, almost ghoulish.
She was well aware of the unfairness of this trade.
The boy was pure, kind, and stubborn. Even when trapped in hardship, he thought of others; even when shivering from the cold, he would drape his jacket over her. Someone like him, even if he gained everything of hers, would never harbor evil intent or do anything ugly.
But Luo Ming would. If her dark thoughts were ever set free, the urge to “devour” him would drive her to exercise every ounce of her possessive nature.
Fortunately, life was peaceful for now. The boy still leaned on her for warmth, neither having left her nor belonging to her yet. Thus, the obsessive “illness” in her body rarely flared up.
She would do everything in her power to ensure that his eyes held only her.
She dried her body and hair and got dressed. The matching white inner layers and thermal leggings trapped her body heat, and her chilled skin quickly regained its rosy hue.
9:50 PM. She began washing her clothes. It was late, but she wouldn’t have much time to wash them tomorrow, and she disdained leaving them for that woman to help with.
It wasn’t until 10:30 PM that Luo Ming finally lay down in bed. Drowsiness washed over her like a tide. She looked out the window at the dark, boundless world, where only a few scattered lights remained lit.
The roadside fast-food shop wasn’t much better than this place, but to Luo Ming, they were two different worlds. This place was dark and sunless, cold and silent—a place where one could see neither hope nor him.
She curled up under the covers and took out her phone, the bright screen illuminating her clean face. Among several advertisements, she saw the contact that made her spirit lift.
Gu Yu: “Luo Ming, Luo Ming, are you asleep?”
“Not yet. What’s up?”
“I can’t really sleep. How about you?”
… After hesitating for a few seconds, Luo Ming tapped the screen and sent:
“Me too. Do you want me to tell you some fairy tales to coax you to sleep?”
“Do you really think of me as your son?”
“Just kidding. Close your eyes, stop overthinking, and you’ll fall asleep eventually. We have morning self-study tomorrow, don’t stay up too late.”
“Alright, I’m going to sleep then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
Goodnight, Luo Ming whispered to herself, a beautiful smile appearing on her face.